Things Lost

There was a Mexican restaurant in Denver, Co, where my roommate and I would go with our friends. Well, they were his friends, but I hung out with them. Or, they were his friends first. They were closer to him. Whatever, they were our friends. Anyway, the restaurant was near our apartment on S. Oneida (Spyglass Hill Apartments, if you care) but, for some reason that probably has to do with the seven years that have passed since then, I can't remember the name of the place. I live between 14 and 16 hours away (depending on how fast you drive and how many times you stop to pee), so it's not like I'm going to pop over for lunch, but if I ever go back it'd be nice to eat there. The food was REALLY good. That has very little to do with my nostalgia for the place, though. You see, the restaurant had this mariachi band that, on Fridays and Saturdays, would stroll through and play while you ate. The novelty in that might be lost if you don't know the place. There were, as I remember, two main eating areas with a bar in between them. I assume this had something to do with smoking and non-smoking, though I don't remember anyone lighting up when I was there. Maybe they'd gone full non-smoking before then. Anyway, the first area had a few booths, nothing special, and was near the front door. The other side had booths and tables.

And it was surely a fire hazard the way they were packed in there.

So, when the band strolled through the second area, they were well within your personal space. I'm not sure why that was a plus, but it certainly was. I've always had a special place in my heart for mariachi music. Probably because of my heritage on my mom's side, but also because the guys in the band always seem to be having fun. How can you not enjoy music (played well) when the band is having so much fun playing it?

When it's country.

But other than that, how can you not? I suppose another reason for my nostalgia is that, like so many other friends I've had since graduating from high school, I've lost touch with all those guys. I often wonder what happened to them, especially my former roommate. I know that, at some point, he and one of the other guys (both former Marines) had considered re-enlisting. Because of that, I worry for their saftey.

Really, in the last eleven years, it's astounding how many friends I've made and lost contact with. One even tracked me down this summer (via email) and I've lost his address since (stupid automatic inbox clearing...). In fact, of all the people who've mattered to me that have become separated from my by geography, Cricket is the only one I've really maintained any real contact with.

How sad is that?

...No, not that it's Cricket, but that there aren't others. Geez. People are always putting words in my mouth...